


In Tongues

by timid (taegedy)



Series: Dance With The Devil [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blasphemy, Eventual Smut, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Supernatural Elements, Synesthesia, demon mark, demon yukhei, jungwoo needs a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-09 16:09:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15271242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taegedy/pseuds/timid
Summary: He closes his eyes briefly, thoughts running around his head that tether between infatuation and borderline obsession.Other than being impatient, Yukhei is also impulsive. Mark despises it when Yukhei jumps headfirst into situations without so much as thinking about the consequences but Yukhei continues to tell Mark to stop thinking about the future and focus on the present.Yukhei knows exactly what he wants and he'll be damned if he can't have it.





	In Tongues

**Author's Note:**

> Had some thoughts about yukhei being a demon and messing around with human jungwoo. I may or may not have been heavily influenced whilst listening to Joji's 'Worldstar Money (Interlude)' but it's up to you whether you wanna label this work as a songfic or not, I personally wouldn't. 
> 
> Also, markhei are totally running off of the Boss MV teaser looks bc got!damn!
> 
> Before we start, I wanna state that I used the internet as my source for more info on synesthesia whilst adding in my own elements to the different forms of it. So if something seems off to you, it's most likely coming from my end.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the product made for my self-satisfaction (and maybe yours).
> 
> Last but not least, I want to thank my v talented friend, carrol (love you baby), for threatening to kick my ass if I didn't come through w/this fic. You guys should check out her chensung au on her twitter:[@dreavmies](https://twitter.com/dreavmies)

 

 

 

 

 

> _This is not a threat, I promise (Nope)_
> 
>  
> 
> _I promise_
> 
>  
> 
> _This is not a threat, I promise (yuh, yuh, yuh)_
> 
>  
> 
> _It's a warning, baby, I just want you to know_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The night sky is unforgiving, Yukhei thinks. 

 

He's long since grown tired of the constant, fixed scenery of the stars and the moon. It's the same thing every day, day in and day out wherein the solid block of black mass hanging over his head feels cold and cramped and it weighs down on him. He prefers moments when the sun and the moon come in brief contact with one another, the liquid black of the night sky merging together with the various shades of blue from the sunlight, together creating a mess of colors that often mean nothing but are interpreted as many things. 

 

While creatures like him thrive off the darkness where nothing but the color black matters, he wonders when he'll find a reason to actually find the night sky worthy of being called beautiful, after all, beauty is subjective and Yukhei isn't shallow (or so he'd like to believe).  

 

Aside from his consistent thoughts about the emptiness of the sky above his head, he often wonders about the constant hypotheticals running around his head that can't seem to catch a break. He thinks about them when he's on duty. He thinks about them when the sun has long since been taken over by the dark recesses of the night and when there's a restless energy aching deep within his bones.

 

He thinks it (the restless energy) feels kind of like an insistent and unreachable itch he can't scratch–it's _that_ fucking annoying, anyway. 

 

Hypotheticals aren't what make him restless though, on the contrary, they give him reason to be still for once and to have time to gather his thoughts and put them into words. Expressing himself verbally has never been his strongest suit but his partner, Mark, has never been hindered by Yukhei's lack of fluency in a language. 

 

Both have worked side by side long enough to understand each other without really needing to physically speak with one another. After all, Mark has always been quick to catch on and match with Yukhei without any needed cues or of that hit or miss guessing that Mark is actually really good at. 

 

Yukhei thinks he's been doing too much thinking lately if his thoughts about Mark (out of all demons he knows) are anything to go by. 

 

Boredom from sitting around all day and night is what's probably making said demon venture into the deep recesses of his mind, the static quality of his immobile-ness causing him to think too much about the most random things. 

 

The hard ledge he's sitting on has long since forced his ass to numb and his cramped legs aren't making his night any better. He's grown past tired of his unrelenting thoughts and feels like he needs to do something other than be sitting on his numb ass and watch the night go by **yet again** without doing something that will relieve his itching. 

 

Work is slow, too slow for Yukhei who's impatient as fuck and likes everything fast-paced and intense.

 

He figures he needs to be at least tipsy in order to make it through his remaining hours on the clock and in order to deal with Chenle and Renjun when they take over his and Mark's spot. Those two tend to make the same mistake of showing up late for their shift almost every day and he's not so much as annoyed at them as he is for their reason behind the tardiness. In other words, Yukhei hates playing babysitter with younger, more inexperienced demons. 

 

Being a demon isn't all it's cut out to be for Yukhei but he'd rather not complain since he stills gets some good things out of having a pair of black horns growing out his head. 

 

For one, Yukhei gets to fuck around with humans while driving them towards damnation, all while feeding his insatiable hunger for _more_. 

 

" Oi, 'm going to get drunk, or something," Yukhei tells Mark, not bothering to wait for his partner's response that comes in the form of a small wave of his hand, before jumping down from the edge of the roof of the building they were patrolling on.

 

Yukhei doesn't have those stereotypical black, bat-like wings so many people think demons have, let alone have the ability to fly but he _can_ stick his landings pretty well. The screams of wind rush around him as he free-falls whilst looking up at the empty sky above, frowning at the fact that Mark actually finds it pretty. 

 

He can't figure out why he stopped looking up at the stars during the night or when he stopped searching for the blurry constellations. To prove his pointless point, he sweeps his eyes across the vast sky, disinterest and something akin to disgust instantly filling his veins and making him look away the next second. 

 

He figures his agitation stems from the fact that although everything is always changing around him, the sky above is always that one fixed constant, reminding him that they (him and the sky) are the only things that will never change, never move on. 

 

Not even a few seconds after free falling from the building, he's already ascended and calmly walking towards his unknown destination with his hands in his pockets, mood lifting considerably now that he's not keeping an eye out for a specific human on his and Mark's list of _Humans That Need To Be Damned_. 

 

All day they've been on the lookout and had seen no signs of their victim– _assignment_ , as Mark usually insists on calling them. He doubts the kid is going to show up now of all times when no one but the creatures of the night are brave enough to face the threatening solitude of the darkness surrounding them. 

 

His eyes take in his surroundings as he silently debates where he should try to get piss drunk. Demons can't even get drunk but Yukhei pretends not to know in order to keep having a reason to skip out on work, even if a little because he knows Mark will always be there to bring him back.

 

It's not like he despises his job, or else he wouldn't be spending insufferable days and nights chasing after humans, but on nights like these when his thoughts are too loud, he needs something to quiet them down. 

 

Apparently, he doesn't have to walk too far to find his spot for some solace, black leather boots coming to a slow stop in front of a throng of rather unassuming–and slightly unappealing–buildings.

 

The bright lights of a club with dying neon lights that spell out  _Neo Cult_ draw him in exactly like any light would attract moths. Other than the neon lights, everything else about the [club](https://data.whicdn.com/images/279543903/superthumb.jpg?t=1488059358) is bland and unassuming from the outside. There's the slightest suspicion that dawns on him that the exterior of the club was purposefully made to be overlooked, difficult to pick out in a street full of more vibrant, more corrupt spots. 

 

He walks up the stairs that lead towards the only entrance, going right past the massive man guarding the entrance. The stairs groan under his weight quite loudly in complaint but the muscle man looks straight past Yukhei's head, his human eyes unable to see something that doesn't want to be seen. The demon glides right past the man and snickers when the human startles upon seeing the door leading inside the club open and close by itself. 

 

The inside is much more appealing, to say the least. Yukhei wanders past the dimly lit area where various grown men in suits and materialistic luxury brands sit in small groups facing an equally dim stage with various poles adorning it. He notices how the stage is the only thing remotely provided with decent lighting, everything else only viewable with a heavy squint. 

 

Almost immediately, the demon notices this isn't any ordinary seedy strip club. He thinks the lack of females anywhere are what make it painstakingly obvious that he's entered a gay strip club. 

 

Yukhei doesn't mind though. He didn't come here for the entertainment, he just came to the closest place where alcohol was offered. 

 

He sits down at the bar and orders the strongest drink they have, having to make himself be seen and noticed in order for the otherwise unassuming bartender to come over to him. While he waits for his drink to be prepared, Yukhei lets his eyes wander as he feels himself finally relax, the colors inside the club already managing to consume some of that restless energy that had been building up within him that had been threatening to make him implode earlier. 

 

Vibrations from the deep bass of the music make their way over to him, causing a low thrum to course through his body and he thinks that if there is one thing he misses about his former life as a human, it would be clubbing but not because he likes dancing or hanging out at the bar. Clubs were where he could exhaust himself to the point where he wouldn't be able to see any unwanted colors for the next 24 hours, that is, when he was human anyway. 

  

While the colors decorating his vision entertain him for a bit as he finishes his drink he hadn't realize he had even been drinking, he sees a flash of unexpected colors peek through his vision before scurrying away from his sight. It's so unusual that he puts his empty drink down at the counter before returning his gaze back towards the sitting area where the majority of patrons reside. 

 

He pulls out a stick of mint gum from the pocket of his jacket, unwrapping the gum before popping it in his mouth, absolutely despising the aftertaste of whatever the fuck he just drank, all without tearing his gaze from the last spot he saw the eye-catching colors disappear.

 

He chases the odd scheme that riddles his mind unlike any other, his eyes trailing after the mixed hues and tones of grayish-blue until landing on the figure it's resonating from. The odd colors surround the person's body like a misty aura, never projecting towards Yukhei like any other color would. 

 

His eyes rake in the male's body from head to toe, duly noting that the bunny [suit](https://www.amiclubwear.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/c/o/costume-sexy-kk89hc-325blackwhite.jpg) he wears leaves little to the imagination but greatly satisfies the senses.

 

" _Huh_ " [Yukhei](https://static.tumblr.com/40dc59005177252815e1cb4ec5d23634/0vbbzpu/QG6p4pyah/tumblr_static_cdd0sf8f17kk880ss8cscksgk.gif) breathes out, eyes unable to look away from the exposed, milky upper half of the male's thighs that the black thigh highs fail to cover and the way the circumference of the boots dig into the male's flesh. 

 

There's something about the way the server moves, silent yet lethal that has Yukhei giving him his entire attention. He takes back his earlier thought about not having come here for the entertainment. His eyes follow the human's trail with a purpose, gaze anything but innocent as he appreciates the view of his backside as he bends over to serve some drinks to some overly-eager patrons. 

 

Unfortunately, the demon isn’t the only one who appreciates the server’s backside as one of the older patrons delivers an unnecessary smack against the server’s lush cheeks, soon after, letting his fingers sneak their way under the fabric of the one-piece in a lame attempt to have more access to the server's _ass_ ets. 

 

Annoyance and something darker makes Yukhei tilt his head, staring down at the quickly disappearing hand, something unpleasant curling at the pit of his stomach as his jaw clenches unnecessarily hard as he chews his gum.

 

In an attempt to not do something he'll regret, he resorts to looking around at the other servers wandering about.

 

They radiate warm, sinful colors that remind Yukhei of the drink he just drank and the nasty aftertaste it brought. He notices how there's a lack of shame and bountiful confidence from the way the servers strut to the way they serve looks of temptation in addition to the drinks. The contrast between the plethora of heat like colors emitting from the rest of the servers and the one that had caught his interest is enough to reel him back in, thirsty for something other than alcohol. 

 

He carefully watches, gum long gone and another drink in his hand, eyes glued to _the_  server with the most passive look on his face–as if he can't feel the obvious and fat fingers digging into his ass and the leers the older men give him as they take in his figure shining under the fluorescent lights. His half-lidded eyes stay focused on the drinks he's setting on the glass table as if under an unbreakable spell, his delicate lips sewed shut and set in a seemingly permanent scowl. 

 

All He does is pour the drastically older men drinks but Yukhei watches like there's magic in the way the slender male refuses to meet anyone's eyes or utter a single word all the way from the start to the very end. 

 

His trance breaks the moment the server straightens his posture, gathering himself and the tray of empty drinks. The intrusive hand that had been all over him like that of an inexperienced pubescent kid learning to touch themselves for the first time, finally pull away with obvious lingering attachments. 

 

The quiet male silently walks away with bills peeking out from his thigh highs and the concave part of his bunny suit that's meant to hold breasts. Ther server's hair that Yukhei had thought was pitch black, turns blue every time he walks under a dull light. It's eye-catching enough to let the demon trail his eyes once more the top of his pretty head to the bottom of his heeled boots.

 

Yukhei doesn't miss the way his hips give the slightest indication that he's moving to the music, the parts of his cheeks that the one-piece fails to cover jiggling ever so slightly and giving way to Yukhei's delighted eyes. 

 

The demon's vision turns slightly hazy as he watches the male melt into the plethora of red's and oranges from the other servers, his signature color standing out like a sore thumb until it's not visible at all due to him disappearing around a corner. 

 

"Shame he wasn't dancing today either" the patron that had had his hand up the server's ass, comments. The low hiss of his voice echoes bland, boring colors the demon is used to seeing although his ears do perk up at the mention of the younger male with the thigh highs, senses honing in on the patrons as they discuss the said male like they would discuss the day's weather. 

 

The clamor of agreements that come from the rest is enough to make Yukhei scowl. The demon watches as their eyes seem to glaze over at the mere mention of their server, something animalistic in the way their white teeth show behind their thinned smiles. 

 

" Although he looks good in the outfit, I prefer him without one when he's up there" another patron brings up, nodding his head towards the obscure stage where multiple dancers become one with the golden poles, sensual and sweaty bodies gyrating and showing exactly what they're capable of.  

 

Yukhei turns back around to face the bar, placing his empty glass on the counter before ditching the bar completely. He's not in the mood to attempt to get drunk anymore. He stands from his seat at the bar, not bothering to tip the bartender that's long forgotten about him. 

 

He lets his senses lead him around, mind eerily quiet for once as he ignores the servers and dancers on stage. Their colors don't catch his attention like _that_ server did and it pisses Yukhei off that he can't get that human off his mind. He doesn't like when his mind is hooked on a single thing because he knows that whenever he takes interest in something, it's all he thinks, speaks and breathes for until he gets so much of it that he eventually gets tired of it. 

 

Yukhei supposes this has more to do with his compulsive mannerisms rather than his passion for fun. 

 

Mark has always pestered Yukhei about controlling his behavior when they're on duty but his warnings only fall on deaf ears. Compliance with procedures is one thing but the restriction of his freedom doesn't sit well with Yukhei. 

 

Both him and Mark have been demons for too long, years turning into centuries and time morphing into a single state of motionless nothing. 

 

Yukhei doesn't see the harm in having a little fun, after all, he and Mark will continue to pull the moral ambiguity card on human society for at least another millennia so he doesn't see the point in getting upset over some fooling around so long as it's not against the rules. 

 

Demons, Yukhei musses, couldn't be any more human in terms of that unshakable selfish hunger devoid of reason that drives everyone to continue to ask for more despite having everything in their grasp but it's something Yukhei is thankful for. After all, without greed and selfishness, Yukhei wouldn't even be standing here on this day, quite literally wasting away his time. 

 

Not a moment later, he finds himself aimlessly walking down a private hallway definitely not meant for guests, trying to look for something he's not sure he wants to find. He feels like there's something calling out to him, beckoning him forward and leading him from one corner to another until he stops in front of a large, mahogany door, a single sign on it that reads _Boss_. 

 

The door is open ever so slightly, a line of light spilling from the other side of the door along with a couple of voices.

 

It doesn't take long for him to know who's behind the door and he sighs to himself for having thought his interest had simmered. Instead of walking away like Mark would harp at him to do, Yukhei leans his back against the wall next to the door, staring blankly at the break rooms right in front of him designated for the employees. 

 

The muffled voices coming from the slight crack of the door couldn’t be any more different to one another. The louder of the two voices is audibly distinct in the way that the voice itself seems to be the source of the vibrations Yukhei can feel coursing through his veins that make even the ground shake ever so slightly. 

 

It nearly engulfs and overtakes the other voice that Yukhei would not have heard if it weren’t for his more sensitive, enhanced hearing. 

 

The voice that’s being drowned out by the louder voice and the [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w5CxsdC2V-0) makes Yukhei physically lean a bit closer to the door. It’s soft, unbearably so. The demon doesn’t know whether he likes it or hates it, questioning why the male in the thigh highs won’t speak up a bit louder for the benefit of everyone listening to him-granted, the male in the thigh highs doesn’t know he’s being eavesdropped on so he really wouldn't need a reason to speak up. 

 

Judging by the undertones of animosity being blanketed by a sickly sweet warning, Yukhei can only guess what's happening inside the office. 

 

"...I expect to see you on stage tomorrow. You've used up all your privileges to serve" The louder of the two voices leaves no room for discussion, cold colors of stubbornness seeping through the tiny crack of the open door. Yukhei wrinkles his nose at the sight of such unwanted, bothersome colors that invade his vision as if begging for attention. 

 

In an attempt to ignore the hues of muted colors, he thinks back to the patrons that were also quite invested in their server, or to be more specific, the restrictions keeping them from fully appreciating their server and how they were nearly beside themselves when questioning why the server hadn't been on the stage. 

 

He scoffs quietly as he tries to focus in on the soft voice once more. 

 

" Yes sir " a simple compliance is all that follows, no argument or hints of defiance whatsoever. 

 

The demon's eyebrows raise slightly, some parts impressed at the lack of opposition but mostly amused at how little confidence the voice holds.

 

He smirks as he draws his thumb and pointer finger to his lips, a lit cigarette materializing from thin air as he sucks in slowly, savoring the delicate voice that belongs to the server in the thigh highs that will fuel Yukhei's fantasies for the remainder of the night. 

 

He closes his eyes briefly, thoughts running around his head that tether between infatuation and borderline obsession. 

 

Other than being impatient, Yukhei is also impulsive. Mark despises it when Yukhei jumps headfirst into situations without so much as thinking about the consequences but Yukhei continues to tell Mark to stop thinking about the future and focus on the present.

 

Yukhei knows exactly what he wants and he'll be damned if he can't have it. 

 

He laughs quietly to himself as he calmly walks away from the large mahogany door, the bodyguard right next to it unable to see the demon even as he passes right in front of him. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jungwoo is in deep trouble. He's known for a long time now that he wouldn't get away from his main position on stage, the patrons too demanding and his boss too overbearing to just give him a moment to _breathe_. 

 

He had seen it coming when his boss had called for him while he was on his break, the other servers giving him the _look_ , silently telling him he was in trouble but offering no condolences. After all, he wasn't a favorite so they didn't have to go out of their way to help him out even if a little. After all, in their degrading eyes, Jungwoo is nothing more than a threat that's more than capable of taking away their sources of income. 

 

In there, it's everyone for themselves and the oppurtunity of one less rival means being one step closer to securing more money, so Jungwoo honestly doesn't blame them. 

 

His boss, an ugly man in his mid-fifties that obsessed over digits rather than the well-being of his employees, hadn't so much as batted an eyelash when he told Jungwoo he'd be cutting his earnings for the night due to Jungwoo's lack of being on the stage for too many days in a row. It was Jungwoo's punishment, his boss had said. 

 

It's not like Jungwoo was expecting anything else at all even if he thinks it's quite unfair. 

 

There was no explanation he wanted to give on his part to try to protect himself, as usual. He's grown used to his validity being overlooked too many times to even try anymore. 

 

A cold shiver runs down his spine despite the sweltering summer air coating his skin like a heavy blanket as he thinks back the that one particular patron that had made it his job to keep a physical hand on Jungwoo for as long as possible.

 

Jungwoo had made it clear in his body language and lack of enthusiasm that he didn’t appreciate the foreign hands on him whatsoever yet his efforts to show his discomfort fell upon unseeing eyes focused on his body rather than his comfort. 

 

There is no point, Junwoo thinks. Not when his consent will always come second to what a patron wants. 

 

He dropped out of college about a month ago and he's about to be kicked out of his apartment due to lack of payment towards his rent. Not to mention he has no clue what direction his life is headed in. 

 

Little by little, Jungwoo can feel his resolve crumbling away and giving the shadows that lurk behind him all the more reason to tighten their vice-like grip around his neck. 

 

At the very least, all Jungwoo knows is that he needs money. 

 

Currency would prove to solve at least half of his problems as easy as a snap of fingers.

 

It's deplorable that currency is as much as the cause of his problems as it is the solution to them and he doesn't know whether to laugh or cry about it. Maybe both, he can definitely see himself laughing hysterically whilst feeling like his heart is ripping in half once he's in the comfort and privacy of his shitty apartment. 

 

All he needs to do is get back to dancing on the stage as well as going over to the red rooms and he'll make ends meet by the skin of his teeth. He knows that it's not as easy as he makes it sound, his body usually feeling dead by the end of just one shift and countless of days following where day after day, he rubs his skin raw in an attempt to get rid of the ghosts of touches. 

 

This job that he had taken as a rash act of desperation is the only thing keeping him from falling apart and even then, he doesn't know how long this act of desperation will continue to feed him, clothe him and put a roof above his head. 

 

Exhaustion looms above him just thinking about having to get back on the stage as he walks down the barely lit sidewalk, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans and eyes cast downwards, trying to call as little attention to himself as possible. 

 

The neighborhood he chose to reside in has always, for a lack of better words, been sketchy. 

 

The random crackheads aren't what scare Jungwoo when he's making his way back home after his shift at _Neo cult_ at 4:30 AM though. The crackheads and drunks, he can handle just fine with a shake of his head when they offer him a baggie of who the hell knows what or a trip to the seedy love hotel right around the block. 

 

Abruptly, Jungwoo snaps out of his thoughts as his gaze flitters over to someone walking in his direction, his hands that are hidden in his pockets balling up and shoulders automatically hunching in order to make himself appear smaller.

 

He keeps his eyes focused on his scuffed sneakers and breathing to a minimum, limbs tensing just the slightest bit because he knows from experience that those who hide their true selves are those who should be reckoned with the most. 

 

There's a brief moment of indescribable intensity that can be felt in the torrid heat despite the dead silence of the night as the stranger and him cross paths while on their way towards opposite directions.

 

Jungwoo can feel the intensity of the moment so clear that he thinks he can feel it crawling and gnawing against his skin like fire ants. His vision feels obscured, unable to make out the features on the stranger's face or anything else really. 

 

He swallows a thick lump in his throat as his eyes widen the slightest bit, mind faltering the moment the stranger's shoulder brushes against his.

 

There's a pause in time, to Jungwoo at least, as a cold sweat breaks out against his suddenly hyperaware body. 

 

The bodily contact probably doesn't last for more than a second but it's a second too long for Jungwoo as he feels like he's come in contact with the human embodiment of an Icy Hot patch. 

 

It doesn't hurt in a way that would have Jungwoo crying out but it feels like he's melting and freezing at the same time, eyes watering at the shock of sensations assaulting his entire being and body physically recoiling. 

 

The waves of fire and ice that attack his senses are enough to distract him for too long a moment as his legs almost give way, causing him to stumble forward and struggle to maintain his balance as. His sneakers kick something forwards as he lurches on his side, a wallet to be exact. 

 

Jungwoo doesn't notice it at first, too busy trying to recollect his mind as he tries to breathe evenly, fingers digging into his palms deep enough to draw blood and his sanity, nail indents caressing his skin the moment he lets go. He doesn't even process the pain of his own hands, mind too jumbled to comprehend anything past the heaviness of his body and dim street lights being the only witnesses to his delirium. 

 

There are hints of something that nags at the back of his consciousness, something that feels eerily familiar in the way goosebumps erupt across the expanse of his skin and a single droplet of sweat falls from his chin. 

 

" **Fuck** " he croaks out, voice trembling almost as much as his numb limbs as he stares down at the thick wallet laying lifelessly on the ground in an attempt to ground and calm himself.

 

His tired eyes scan the wallet, mind somehow catching up and letting Jungwoo draw the connection that it belongs to the stranger he just bumped into that sent him into near cardiac arrest. 

 

He turns back to see if the stranger has noticed he dropped his belonging or at least coming back towards Jungwoo but the stranger keeps walking away, one hand in the pocket of his jeans and the other dropped at his side, long and thin fingers loosely holding a cigarette, seemingly entirely unaffected unlike Jungwoo who's having trouble just catching his breath.

 

Just gazing at his backside has Jungwoo hesitating for reasons he shouldn’t. 

 

Brief and fleeting thoughts cross Jungwoo's head, all debating whether to give the wallet or not as he picks it up and is surprised that it's got quite the heaviness despite it's small and compact form, not to mention how little it would take for the wallet to literally be overflowing with paper bills. 

 

Standing there, thick wallet in his trembling hands and body a nervous mess, Jungwoo comes at a standstill, body still buzzing from the remains of bumping into the stranger and thoughts mixing together in a litany of _take it and run_. 

 

He swallows dryly, mind instantly coming up with how easily the unknown amount in the wallet would cover his month's rent, not to mention how he could have a head start on next month's rent with his job's paycheck. 

 

It’s as if God decided to finally take pity on him and give him exactly what he needed and worried himself sick over every passing day. 

 

Jungwoo’s face burns in shame, the fact that he’s teetering between being honest to himself and being a good person making him feel disgusted. 

 

Temptation is an ugly thing, Jungwoo thinks as he waits for the cold shivers racking his body to dissolve. He eyes the wallet warily, lips pursing and eyes darting back and forth from the wallet to the stranger. 

 

It'd be so easy to pretend that it's his and he merely dropped it. It'd be so easy to just turn around and continue on his way home. _It'd be so easy_ , Jungwoo's mind antagonizes as his fingers twitch and eyes look around restlessly. 

 

 Eventually, his guilt wins over his desire as he tries to call the rapidly disappearing stranger's attention. His voice doesn't travel very far, if at all.

 

Jungwoo knows he needs to give the wallet back before he changes his mind. He’s desperate but not to the point where he resorts to taking away someone else’s money. The mere thought of being found out by the cops makes Jungwoo resort to running after the stranger, upset at how his voice only continues to fail him in times of need. 

 

His heavy and lethargic feet thud against the pavement, tired puffs of air escaping his mouth as he approaches the oblivious stranger, only growing warier once he realizes that the stranger is indeed tall, nearly towering over Jungwoo who isn’t so short himself. 

 

For a moment, his mind blanches as the stranger turns to face him. He hadn't realized someone could look so well put together at this ungodly time of day. 

 

He can hear himself struggling to catch his breath and he wants to curse the humid temperature for making a few drops of sweat glide down his temples. He doesn't miss the way the stranger's eyes follow the trajectory of his sweat, unreadable eyes traveling from his temples to his neck before gazing back up at his face. 

 

Thin, delicate lips set in a small smirk snap Jungwoo out of whatever disastrous direction his encounter with the stranger was headed, reminding him he came to give the wallet back.

 

"Sir, you dropped your wallet" Jungwoo huffs out, eyes briefly meeting the strangers before avoiding eye contact altogether, looking down at his shoes instead as he wordlessly holds out the wallet. He mentally cringes at himself for calling the obviously young man in front of him _sir_ , but it's a force of habit because of Jungwoo who can't seem to differentiate between using it in and outside the workplace. 

 

 _He's fucking hot_ , is what runs through Jungwoo's traitorous head the next second, body unable to argue seeing that Jungwoo can already feel an all too familiar heat creep up past his neck.

 

Although Jungwoo had only seen the male's face for a millisecond or two, he knows the male is devastatingly good looking. Those lips adorning the stranger's face did little to dissuade Jungwoo from thinking so. 

 

Before he can full out swoon though, he takes a metaphorical step back and thinks about what someone would be doing out in his neighborhood at this time of morning. 

 

Jungwoo's initial attraction to the stranger abruptly comes to a pause, caution instantly rising within him as de dares to look at the stranger one last time, his brown eyes coming in contact with dark onyx eyes that reflect nothing back. The stranger's strong eyebrows only emphasize the roundness of the stranger's eyes, drawing all the more attention to the unnatural darkness of his eye color. 

 

"Ah, thank you," an accented voice tells Jungwoo a little too loud to be appropriate. The stranger reaches out to take his wallet with his hand that isn't holding his cigarette, bony fingers brushing over Jungwoo's that hold his wallet.

 

Jungwoo's breath hitches, the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck raising considerably. 

 

The shorter of the two males instantly recoils from the other's touch as if he's come in direct contact with fire. The wallet drops for the second time but Jungwoo isn't there to pick it up. 

 

He's long been breaking out in a full sprint away from the stranger, mind racing almost as quick as his heart and everything in his whole being screaming at him to just keep running. He doesn't look back, too scared about the possibility that something could be running after him. 

 

Not only had Jungwoo sensed the same, paradoxical sensation nearly overtake his unsuspecting body like the first time they had brushed shoulders, but his eyes had seen something all the more terrifying. 

 

In the brief moment that he had looked in terror at the stranger's eyes while their fingers met, he had seen black, curved horns sprouting from the sides of the person's head. 

 

The reason Jungwoo is running for the hills is that he's come in contact with another one of _those_. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yukhei hums despondently as he approaches Mark, the latter's backside facing the taller of the two, legs swinging in tandem from where he sits on the edge of the roof. 

 

His dark and muted croons dedicated to no one in particular travel louder than Yukhei expects, echoes traveling far in the quiet neighborhood. 

 

" I thought you said you were going to get drunk, not fuck around with some human that's not on our list " Mark grunts out, not turning back to look at Yukhei, his smaller horns glowing a soft silver and curving towards the pale of the moonlight. The earrings and charms dangling from his horns make tiny, bell-like sounds as they clink when coming together due to the rather strong breeze that's come on.

 

Mark's hair follows the patterns of the breeze, shifting and falling onto his eyes. 

 

The former demon sniffs, unbothered, as he flicks his cigarette off of the roof and stalks over to his partner, a shit-eating grin forming on his face as he takes his spot next to him. 

 

He once again swings his legs over the ledge and looks down at the quiet scenery below them, eyes searching for nothing in particular yet persistent in the way they dart from one spot to another. 

 

A moment passes wherein neither utters a single word, the smaller of the two demons blowing a bubble of gum and staring blankly at the void of darkness hanging above their heads. 

 

Yukhei hadn't expected anything else from Mark. He knows his partner takes their job seriously and his rigidness that usually gives way to Yukhei's antics is un-bending nowadays due to the fact that their list has yet to be completed. Mark doesn't like distractions coming in the way of their job because he likes to effectively get things done as fluidly and quickly as possible. 

 

There is no doubt he saw what just went down between Yukhei and the game he just played. While Mark is most likely unamused, Yukhei is very much looking forward to what happens next. 

 

His human interest went beyond his expectations and only further proved Yukhei's reason to have such an interest in him. 

 

He had expected the human to take the wallet-which isn't even his, he swiped it from one of the patrons as he was leaving-and bore Yukhei. 

 

"S' aight bro, there's no harm and it's not exactly against the rules to acquire myself a new toy" Yukhei assures him, his dark eyes naturally drawing over to the new subject of his profound interest, watching as he races into his apartment building like there's a maniac behind him–which isn't entirely untrue. 

 

Beside him, Yukhei can hear the clear way Mark sighs out, charms continuously clattering together and forming a melody unlike any other.  

 

" I never said there was anything wrong with that. I'm just saying you're signing yourself up for more work when you corrupt his soul beyond salvation" Mark mutters quietly, flicking his chocolate bangs out of his eyes as he continues to look up at the miserable darkness refusing to let up despite the sun threatening to come up in less than 2 hours. 

 

Yukhei finally looks over to Mark once he's sure he can't see hide nor hair of the male that will continue to haunt his thoughts. 

 

He watches as [Mark](https://data.whicdn.com/images/307387017/original.gif) continues to annoyingly chew on his gum, eyes faraway and half of his face blending in with the darkness while the other half glows faintly under the help of the moon. 

 

He thinks back to the look of contemplation and something more self-deprecating written clearly across the human's face when he had approached him, written more clearer than the stars in the night sky. He knows the human isn't anywhere near salvation, to begin with. 

 

Yukhei, like any other demon working under the department of damnation, had been chosen to work there because of his special attribute that's greatly beneficial towards the job requisites. The colors he sees coming off of humans are always a great indicator to possible upcoming assignments.

 

Still, this specific human had more than piqued his interests because his colors were the only thing that remained in Yukhei's mind even after he couldn't visibly see them anymore. 

 

Yukhei runs a hand through his hair, shit-eating grin only growing as he chuckles softly to himself, tongue peeking out from his mouth to run across his bottom lip. 

 

" Where's the fun of messing around with someone if I can't break them? " Yukhei asks out loud to no one in particular. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A penny for your thoughts, perhaps?


End file.
